


We Hold Each Other

by Sage (the_ruined_earth_sagelord)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, KageHina - Freeform, M/M, haikyuu!! - Freeform, so im gonna hurt you with it, some ukai x takeda kinda???, these two have consumed my soul, this song hurts me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-04-30 04:40:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5150573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ruined_earth_sagelord/pseuds/Sage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything looks different now<br/>All this time my head was down<br/>He came along and showed me how to let go<br/>I can't remember where I'm from<br/>All I know is who I've become<br/>That our love has just begun like ohhh</p><p>Something happens when I hold him<br/>He keeps my heart from getting broken<br/>When the days get cold and the nights get a little bit frozen<br/>We hold each other<br/>We hold each other<br/>We hold each other</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Hold Each Other

**Author's Note:**

  * For [day](https://archiveofourown.org/users/day/gifts).



> Once again, I needed to write out my feelings after the new episode :')
> 
> Lyrics are from "We Hold Each Other", A Great Big World
> 
> Also, I like these lyrics for the scene under the stars, also from A Great Big World, "Already Home":
> 
> When life takes its own course  
> Sometimes we just don't get to choose  
> I'd rather be there next to you  
> Promise you'll wait for me, wait for me  
> Wait 'til I'm home

_He's...different now._

     Kageyama watched Hinata fly through the air, and once again he missed the spike. He landed heavy, staring at his hand. He looked up at Kageyama, and Tobio turned away quickly, biting his lip anxiously. Why couldn't he match Hinata's spike anymore? What was going on? Kageyama was so used to being absolutely in sync with his partner. So why couldn't they coordinate their attack anymore?

     Unbidden, Oikawa's words bubbled up in the back of Kageyama's mind.

      _The one in charge of an attack...is the shrimpy one._

     Kageyama looked up. Hinata was staring at him, panting. Kageyama felt his breath catch. The way Hinata  _looked_ at him, like he was some wild creature staring down something that threatened his very existence. And maybe Kageyama did. Maybe Kageyama was threatening the very existence of the sun, and it sought to burn him rather than let him get in its way.

     Kageyama took a breath. "Again," he stuttered.

     Hinata nodded, like it was the most obvious thing. He moved into position. The serve went up, Daichi calling for the team to be ready. The receive, the connect, Kageyama felt the ball at his fingers, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the ray of light like a blinding spear thrown at full velocity. Hinata was  _there_ , and Kageyama reached for him through his toss. He knew the volleyball was focused in Hinata's pupil like a mouse in the eye of of hawk. He swung, the spike.

     It didn't connect.

     The ball dropped on their side of the net, and Suga and Daichi called "Don't mind!" and Tanaka and Nishinoya growled at the other team, and Tsukishima snickered behind his hand, and  _Hinata stared at him_. Kageyama looked up this time, and stared directly back at him. _  
_

     "Again," he said. Demanded.

     Hinata nodded.

     Kageyama couldn't let this happen. The first person who'd ever matched his tosses, now he could barely touch the ball. Was it really Kageyama's fault? Had Oikawa been right? Hinata was definitely different now. When he called for the toss he was already moving, and Kageyama felt himself leaning towards the small decoy as if drawn in by the sun's gravity, as if the ball would be tossed to him even if Kageyama didn't aim in his direction. Hinata was everywhere, and Kageyama couldn't escape him. They used to call  _him_ the tyrant, the "king of the court." But now...

     Now he began to see how powerless he'd truly been. There was only one true king on this court. And there he was, breathless, brilliant, staring at his palm, wishing it was red from smacking a clean spike onto the other side of the net. Maybe Oikawa had been right after all. Maybe Kageyama was merely the breath in the spiker's body, the wind under the crow's wings as it struggled and clawed at the skies.

     What was wrong with that, as long as they connected their attack, as long as they scored one more point?

 

***

They lost the match, of course.

     The team collapsed, huffing and sore at the bottom of the hill, their "refreshing sprints" definitely refreshing their disgust with this stupid hill and these damned sprints and  _Oi, Noya, get that caterpillar away from my face, baka!!_ and Daichi trying to keep everyone's spirits up. Karasuno had had enough.

     The team was quiet, panting into the evening. The matches were done for the day, and everyone broke off to sit with each other and murmur quietly, even Tanaka and Nishinoya too tired to get loud and rowdy.

     Ukai and Takeda watched the team closely, standing a little ways away. They dared not encroach on the precious fragility of the team's spirit now; adults trying to force their way into the team's changing dynamic would only tarnish the strange evolution that was occurring. They could both sense it, Ukai and Takeda. An electric charge hung over the boys like a storm about to break. _  
_

     "Ukai-san," Takeda said in low voice, not wanting to break the strange enchantment over the team sitting under the stars. "They were terrible today, weren't they?"

     "Oh yes," Ukai said. He grinned wolfishly. "Brilliant, wasn't it?"

     "Er, well, no. Not really. They looked out of sync, all of them."

     Ukai glanced up at the stars, his grin shrinking to a small smile. "Sensei, have you ever seen a moth hatch from its cocoon?"

     Takeda made a face. "Yes."

     Ukai chuckled. "I can tell by your face it didn't look pleasant." The coach looked down at the team, his team, and felt a great rush of emotion as he spoke. "When they pull themselves from their cocoons, moths sure aren't pretty. The whole process is messy. The moth is still pretty weak, you see, and it's trying to split open this tough shell that's been holding it back. But when it finally breaks through, it becomes much stronger." He gripped his arms, hugging himself as a chilly wind blew past him and Takeda. "Karasuno is pretty ugly right now, a moth struggling to evolve. It'll be messy, but that's the beauty of it. We're witnessing before us, right now, a monumental change for the team. We're seeing them evolve at an incredible rate. Eventually, they'll break out of this rut, their messy cocoon, and they'll fly right into the light."

     Takeda frowned. "Doesn't that usually kill moths?"

     Ukai burst out laughing. "Aha, sorry, Sensei! I got carried away with my own metaphor!" He wiped his eyes, surprised by the small tears in their corners. "It's just exciting, that's all," he said softly.

     Takeda glanced at the coach, the team, then at Ukai again. A smile spread across his face when he saw the emotion in Ukai's eyes. He moved closer, hesitating to put his arm around the other man, then thought better of it, not wanting to ruin the small moment for the coach. He settled on standing quietly with Ukai, watching the stars, their team, and the evolution of this mob of crows.

 

***

The stars were quiet, the night was cold, and Kageyama felt alone.

     Around him, the team sat together in small groups. Daichi with Suga and Asahi. Tanaka and Nishinoya with Ennoshita. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi.

     And Hinata.

     Kageyama watched him, the small boy lying alone on the grass, separated from Kageyama by the rest of the team between them. There was a strange sensation in Kageyama's side, like something had been carved out of his ribs. He couldn't figure out what it was, and it scared him. He'd been feeling it since the fight. His and Hinata's fight. And now that he'd seen first hand how much Hinata had changed in only a few days, Kageyama felt the emptiness in his side even deeper, and he was even more afraid.

     He looked over at Hinata again, and the emptiness twitched, cut a little deeper.

     Ah, that was it. Of course.

     Hinata was over there, and not next to him.

     Kageyama clutched his side, turning to glare at the wall of the building instead. The gray stone mocked him. It was drab, plain, alone. Like him. He felt a tightness in his chest, a burning lump in his throat, and he swallowed, trying to control his emotions.

     A swirl of feathers, a light that dimmed the stars above, and a small sigh of grass against shoes. Kageyama froze. His eyes widened. He turned.

     Hinata sat next to him. His amber eyes held all the stars in them as he stared up at the sky, but Kageyama wouldn't ever say that out loud.

     Hinata's eyes moved to him, and they held him in their gaze now, like the stars. Kageyama lost his breath, refusing to give in to those wild eyes, and he glared back.

     "You're different now."

     They both blinked in surprise. Kageyama wondered how Hinata could've known exactly what he was going to say, and when to say it at the same time. Where they getting back in sync again? Or had that simply been a lucky break?

     "You move...weird now," Kageyama mumbled.

     Hinata stared at him. "Your tosses aren't the same. They're more  _pfoom_ instead of  _wmvoom_."

     Kageyama raised an eyebrow. "Your jumps aren't as quick. You're kind of moving like  _schwoo_ instead of z _hwoov_."

     Hinata nodded slowly in understanding. They were quiet again, listening to the building sigh and the whispers of their team as they enjoyed the cool night after their intense day of training.

     "I'm in charge of the attacks, Kageyama."

     Kageyama felt his stomach twist when Hinata said his name. How long had it been since he'd heard Hinata call his name on the court? Off the court? He'd been waiting for his partner's voice, and he knew Hinata was  _there, flying through the air, waiting for the toss_ , but he never knew where Hinata was off the court anymore. And the emptiness in his ribs carved deeper into his side.

     "I know," Kageyama said stiffly. Did he? Did he really get it yet? He could barely understand how quickly Hinata was evolving. How could something so small contain the ability to go through such a violent evolution, ripping apart the very fabric between them? Was Kageyama unnecessary now? He could remember when he'd declared to Hinata how he wasn't necessary to win, how he wouldn't get a toss. Now the tables had turned. It seemed like Kageyama was useless now. Hinata didn't need him anymore.

     "But I still need you, Kageyama."

     The night was getting cold fast, and the rest of the team started to shake out their legs and arms, and a few moved inside, and they could see their breath now. And Kageyama was as cold as the air, his body frozen stiff, his breath barely alive, his eyes fixed on Hinata's amber ones, staring back into him.

     "I can't spike without you," Hinata mumbled, stumbling over his words. "I'm trying to get better so I can be more valuable to the team. But...I still need...I mean you're the only one who..." He glanced away awkwardly.

     "Hinata-"

     "You're incredible, Kageyama!"

     Kageyama needed an inhaler at this point, his breathing was definitely suffering. "What are you talking about?" he stammered. He turned away to hide his blushing face.

     "Your tosses and sets are amazing, Bakageyama," Hinata said, unconsciously slipping back into using his nickname for Kageyama. "I couldn't do a lot without your tosses. They're timed so perfectly! I still need you, to get to the top! But you're still my rival, so I want to be able to compete like you. Alone."

     Kageyama glanced at the stone in the building. "You don't want to play alone, dumbass," he muttered.

     Hinata nodded, bright hair bouncing. "I know, I know. That's why I'm saying I still need you." He peered into Kageyama's face. "So...I just wanted to say...I'm sorry. I want us to...to fix this."

     Kageyama hesitated. "This?"

     Hinata fiddled with his shorts. "You know. Us. Our dynamic on the court. And, well...off the court. I don't want to fight anymore! You're my p-partner!"

     Kageyama stared at Hinata. Hinata's eyes gazed into his, the sights of far off places dazzling in his amber irises.

     "You're my partner too, Hinata-boge," Kageyama murmured, his face flushing. "Now stop acting like an idiot and hit my tosses."

     Hinata griped and growled, but he was grinning, and Kageyama felt the smaller boy lean into him, point at the stars, declare to all of Japan that he'd be the best. Some of the other team members laughed and called him out, saying he had a long way to go. But Hinata shouted to the night, and he shone, and Kageyama felt his stomach squirm, his body grow warm and fuzzy, like any minute he might float away. He could feel the world around him, the presence of the evening air, the grass cool between his fingers, and when he looked at Hinata everything looked different. Hinata pointed and gesticulated wildly, but a part of him was always nudging Kageyama's arm or shoulder or side, and Kageyama felt the emptiness in his ribs slowly filling, the piece carved from him being suffused with light and warmth.

     The night went on, and no one told the team to come inside, because that place and time belonged to them and them alone. The crows below the stars huddled together, their feathers ruffled and their claws flexing, preparing for an evolution unlike any other. And Kageyama felt his throat close tight, his eyes betraying him. He looked around at his team, these other boys who believed in him, who trusted him. Who needed him. And he looked at Hinata, small and bright next to him at the bottom of that grassy hill. He paused in the middle of a story he was telling to Tanaka and looked up at Kageyama, a question on his face. Kageyama shook his head, his eyes heavy. As if he could feel the weight of that gaze, Hinata shrank, pulling into Kageyama's side, and at that moment everything clicked, and Kageyama's empty side filled completely, for that familiar presence was back right where it was supposed to be.

     Under the stars, the crows stretched their wings and nursed their wounds from the day, the shell of their cocoon thin and ready to break. And a setter and his spiker sat together, their bodies close, the cold night pressing in around them. They held each other.

     They held each other. And that was enough.


End file.
